


I Want to Fight With You

by fantasyseal



Series: Magical Boys [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Magical Boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 19:12:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8545726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantasyseal/pseuds/fantasyseal
Summary: A continuation of my magical boys AU, now with 100% more Asanoya. Featuring: inconveniently timed transformations, Daichi 100% done with this magic thing, and kids talking a lot.Can be read by itself but makes more sense if you read Night and Day too!





	

“Are you okay?”

Asahi blinks his eyes open; there’s a kid leaning over him with one blonde tuft of spiky hair, in a bright orange sparkly uniform that he’s _pretty_ sure isn’t regulation (volleyball shorts aren’t that short, and jerseys aren’t that tight, and since when do volleyball shoes have heels?).

“ _Uh,_ ” he says, jumping to his feet, “I’m fine, thank you.”

“What are you doing out here so late?” the kid scolds him, crossing his arms. “Don’t you know it’s dangerous at night?”

“You’re the only person I see…” Asahi says, looking down at him in confusion. He’s a lot taller than this boy, and the boy scowls back up at him.

“Not _people, monsters._ Please let me take you home?” he asks. “I swear I’m not gonna attack you… _duck!”_

“Wha?” Asahi ducks, and a second later a bolt of lightning roars over his head and strikes _something_ behind him, something that shrieks once and sets Asahi’s nerves on edge as it vanishes in a blinding flash of light.

The kid curses. “Damn it, there’s a lot tonight…” He turns back to Asahi. “Sorry. It’s really not safe to be out here, can I please see you back to your house, or at least out of the woods?”

“I have no idea who you are,” Asahi says, to hide the fact that he’s about to pass out from sheer fear at the lightning bolt that just passed _two inches_ over his head, the one that he’s pretty sure this sparkly, ridiculously-tight-jerseyed kid generated.

“Oh!” The kid snaps his fingers. “I’m sorry, I should start with that…” He clears his throat, stands up straight, and points with his thumb to his chest. “I’m West! I’m this area’s guardian,” he adds like that should mean something to Asahi. He says ‘West’ in English, pronouncing it carefully and tripping over the ‘t’ sound.

“West,” Asahi repeats, staring down at him. “Really.”

“Yes!” the kid says, and then grumbles something like _just because it’s not as cool as Taiyo and Yoru’s…_ “I protect this area,” he adds, gesturing around. “There’s monsters, and the same force that makes them show up makes us show up.”

“Us,” Asahi says. “There’s more than just you?”

“Yep, but I’m the best!” the kid says, cocky grin returning. “Taiyo and Yoru patrol on nights when I don’t,” and he spins on his heeled shoe and fires off another lightning bolt. Asahi hears another shriek and can’t suppress his shiver.

‘West’ offers Asahi his hand. “Come on, I’ll get you home!” he says, grinning up at Asahi. “Dunno why you’re out here so late, but you gotta get back, right?”

_I had a nightmare and a walk in the woods, in the dark, seemed like a good idea at the time,_ Asahi thinks, and takes the kid’s hand. “Thank you.”

West salutes him with his free hand. “All part of the job!”

He leads Asahi through the woods, back to Asahi’s house in town, and leaves him at the door, nearly running off before stopping. “Wait, what’s your name?”

“…It’s Asahi,” he says, not sure why he’s telling West his actual name, except that West _did_ help him find his house again.

“Asahi-san,” West says, and nods, grinning widely again. “Nice to meet you! Don’t let me catch you out in the woods again!”

He spins around and runs off, leaving Asahi with nothing to do but wander back inside and think about short, cute boys who shoot lightning.

He keeps finding excuses to be in the woods at night, and West doesn’t seem to object, apart from his cheerful scoldings of _Asahi-san, I can’t keep you and the town safe at the same time!_

Asahi spends most of their nights together curled up in a terrified ball, watching West fling around lightning like it’s nothing, but he still sneaks out, and West’s greeting goes from a scolding to a grin and a wave. He sulks for a week after one night when Asahi has two tests the next day and doesn’t come; Asahi laughs and asks him if he has to worry about entrance exams, and West gets a _please don’t ask_ look on his face.

“I still have another year!” he calls over his shoulder, grinning.

And then one night West is stuck, fighting against too many monsters for even his lightning to take out fast enough, and Asahi hears a voice.

**_Do you want to help him?_ **

_Is that even a question?_ Asahi asks the voice, not stopping to consider that he’s talking to a voice in his head. _Of course I do._

**_It’s not easy,_** the voice says. **_You can’t stop once you start._**

_I don’t care,_ Asahi thinks, watching West back against a tree trunk, flinging lightning as fast as he can and causing so much _(loud, why)_ thunder it’s a miracle no one’s out here investigating. _He’s in trouble._

**_All right,_** the voice says. **_So help him._**

Asahi blinks and looks down; he’s in a uniform, like West’s, only it’s mostly black instead of mostly orange, and it is definitely _way_ too tight, and how are you supposed to balance with these shoes…

“Uh, West?” Asahi calls out. “How’s this work?”

“Eh?” West has mostly vanished under the onslaught, and he can’t see Asahi; no help from him, then.

Asahi thinks _get away from him,_ and flings out his hand the way he’s seen West do. _Please be something helpful._

The earth literally flings itself up, throwing the monsters backward and giving West a moment to breathe, and he stares.

“Asahi-san?”

Asahi’s heart is pounding in his ears, but he’s not scared, for once. He’s managed to ‘kill’ (he’s never asked West if these things can be killed or if he’s just blowing them up temporarily) a good half of the monsters surrounding them.

West grins and flashes him a thumbs-up. “Thanks!” he calls, before going right back to flinging lightning. Asahi discovers that he can elevate the earth _just_ around West, giving him the high ground, and soon they’re having fun, Asahi pointing and West leaping to ever-higher positions where the monsters can’t reach, particularly not once Asahi figures out that he can just sort of _move_ the earth from under their feet and knock them over.

“It’s almost not fun anymore,” West says, hopping down from Asahi’s last peak and sticking his tongue out, and Asahi laughs.

“Sorry…”

“I said almost!” West says, laughing. “So what’s your name?”

“Eh?” Asahi is officially confused. “You know my name, it’s Asa—“

“No!” West interrupts. “Not that one!”

Asahi blinks at him, silently begging him to explain, and West grins at him. “It’s not proper magical boy etiquette to call your teammate their real name when they’re powered up! I mean, you didn’t think my name was really West, right? Usually the voice tells you…”

**_I was in a rush,_** and Asahi jumps a mile into the air, now that West is safe and he’s apparently back to being scared of shadows.

West sticks his tongue out at air. “Doesn’t excuse not giving him a name!”

**_Fine. He’s West, and you’re his teammate, so how about East?_ **

“East,” Asahi says, trying it out. It’s hard to say (who decided words could end with a ‘t’ sound, anyway?), but West’s grin gets wider, and he jumps, using Asahi’s back as a springboard.

“Perfect!” He yawns. “I’m so glad Taiyo and Yoru are on patrol tomorrow…”

“It’s about the time you usually go home, right?” Asahi asks, and West nods.

“Those things form around midnight, when it’s really, really dark out and no one can sleep and there’s a ton of negative energy floating around. Once they’re all gone for the night, it’s safe to sleep.” He’s rocking on his heels. “Can I walk you home? I know you don’t really need it now…”

“No,” Asahi says quickly, “please do,” and West lights up and chatters about nothing the whole way back to Asahi’s.

Asahi is happy.

 

There’s no failing to recognize West when he files in politely with the rest of the first-years, even if his blonde tuft is gone. He bows and introduces himself as Nishinoya Yuu; Asahi hides behind the bleachers, not wanting to distract his friend before tryouts, and ignoring the questioning glances Suga and Daichi are shooting his way.

“ _Azumane-san!”_ their captain yells across the court, and Asahi winces. Crap. “Would you _please_ come out and introduce yourself to your new teammates so we can get started?”

West is obviously trying not to laugh as Asahi sheepishly ducks out from the bleachers and lines up. “Sorry,” Suga whispers.

“Thanks for trying,” Asahi mutters back, and faces the line of first-years, hearing West’s sharp inhale. “Um, I’m Azumane Asahi, second-year…” _Crap,_ what else? There’s something else, he’s pretty sure.

“ _Position,_ ” Sugawara hisses. _Oh right._

“Wing spiker,” he finishes. “It’s a pleasure to work with you!” He ducks back behind Suga and Daichi, ignoring the stares he’s getting from the first-years who probably all think he’s a complete wuss now.

…Okay, so he _is_ a complete wuss.

West… _Nishinoya,_ Asahi keeps reminding himself…turns out to be an amazing libero. Asahi can’t take his eyes off him, even seeing Suga and Daichi whispering and knowing he’s going to have to explain how they know each other later. He’s heard of Nishinoya Yuu before, come to think of it; the third-years were talking about Chidoriyama’s super libero after the middle-school tournament.

Nishinoya bounces up to him after practice. “Asahi-saaaaaaan!”

Asahi groans to himself; first-name basis already, Daichi and Sugawara are _never_ going to leave him alone. “Nishinoya-san,” he says politely, hoping West will take the hint.

“You’re _amazing!_ ” West says, grinning as widely as he does when they’ve pulled off a particularly impressive attack. “Your spikes are _really_ hard to receive right…”

Asahi laughs. “I’m sure the third-years are worse…” he says, and West shakes his head, still ridiculously starry-eyed.

“Nah, you spike harder than they do.” Asahi wonders if he realizes that he’s just guaranteed the third-years are going to spike harder on purpose next practice, just to prove they’re better than their underclassmen.

“Noya, you’re bothering him,” one of the other first-years calls, and West turns around and sticks his tongue out.

“No I’m not, Ennoshita-san!”

“Are too,” another one says, looking over his shoulder while he puts his shirt on. “Look, you’re embarrassing him.” Nishinoya sticks his tongue out at that one too, but he at least waits until everyone else is mostly gone, and then points at Asahi.

“You never said you were going to Karasuno too!”

“It’s the closest one to my house,” Asahi says, staring at him, and Nishinoya pouts.

“Yeah, but…” He grins. “This is gonna be great! I don’t believe you’re here!”

He’s genuinely overflowing with happiness that Asahi goes to the same school and is on the same team as him, and Asahi can’t help his smile back. Nishinoya’s grin gets bigger, and he turns to leave, calling “Don’t forget it’s our night to patrol!” over his shoulder.

 

_“So,”_ Daichi says the next morning as they’re stretching. “What do you think of the first-years?”

“I think they’ll be good for the team,” Asahi answers, leaning over one leg to stretch it out.

He can hear Daichi’s grin in his voice, even focused on his warmup. “Our new libero’s pretty good, huh?”

“He’s very talented,” Asahi says, keeping his voice neutral as he switches legs. _Talented_ is an understatement; Noya’s position as a libero had been surprising, after all their nights together with Asahi supporting him so he could throw lightning around, but he’s _good_ at what he does. He rarely lets receives drop in practice, and he seems to consider the third-years’ efforts at making him miss funny. (The third-years are _really_ not happy about his belief that Asahi spikes harder than they do, but at least they’re mostly taking it out on Nishinoya and not Asahi.)

Asahi realizes too late that he has a huge, goofy grin on his face thinking about Nishinoya, and Sugawara elbows him. “Asahiiiii.”

“Sorry,” Asahi says, forcing the grin off his face. “Didn’t sleep much last night.” He realizes too late how Daichi and Sugawara are going to take _that._

Sugawara raises an eyebrow, and Asahi hits his shoulder.

“Sugaaaaa…not like that.”

“Because he’s not interested, or because you didn’t ask?” Sugawara asks, smirking in that way he has that reminds Asahi he’s not nearly as innocent as he seems, and Asahi nearly _dies, please_ don’t tell him Nishinoya heard that.

Asahi decides that his best available option is just staying silent, which Daichi and Suga take as confirmation that they’re right (well, they are). He finishes stretching and stands up to go; Nishinoya waves at him and calls “Asahi-saaaan, come warm up with me!”

“Have fun,” Daichi calls, grabbing a ball and going to warm up with Suga. Asahi just groans, because _what did he do to deserve these two,_ fishes a ball out of the cart, and runs over to Nishinoya.

Nishinoya looks like he slept perfectly fine last night, which is _so_ not fair; his hair’s spiky as usual, brushed neatly back with the still-not-used-to-it-not-being-blonde tuft in front, and he’s as energetic as always, diving to get Asahi’s less-than-perfect receives.

Nishinoya doesn’t have trouble with anxiety, Asahi reminds himself. He probably goes home and falls straight to sleep (Asahi’s learned to sneak in and make hot chocolate and let his heart calm back down before he even _tries_ to go to bed).

“Is it our night or theirs today?” Asahi asks, finally managing a proper straight receive. Nishinoya stops and frowns.

“Ours again, I think.”

Asahi nods. “How do you even know?” he asks, catching Nishinoya’s missed ball and throwing it back for him.

Nishinoya shrugs. “I just do,” he says, dropping to send the ball flying back toward Asahi. Asahi sighs, but accepts that.

“Why don’t we ever see them?” Okay, so there’s _one_ more thing he’s curious about. Taiyo and Yoru are supposed to be the other magical-boy duo, and Asahi’s never seen any evidence that they actually exist, other than the occasional singed grass patch and sooty footprints stamping on top of them. He assumes that’s ‘Taiyo’ (someone who uses ‘sun’ as their name would have to have fire powers, right?)

“Is that important?” Nishinoya catches the ball, not even pretending to warm up anymore. “We kill things some nights, they kill things other nights.” Asahi suppresses a laugh, because that sentence is so _Nishinoya,_ and shrugs.

“Just wondered,” he says.

Nishinoya laughs. “I dunno, I only know their names ‘cause the voice told me, and sometimes the voice says…” He stops, and when he speaks again his voice is higher. “ _Make sure you’re out tonight, West!_ and then sometimes it says _It’s Taiyo and Yoru’s turn tonight, go to bed!_ ”

“Hey!” Daichi calls from across the gym. “If you two are done warming up, get over here!”

_Oops,_ and the two of them blush and run to the rest of their team.

 

_“It’s no fun hitting spikes that don’t score.”_

East and West fight separately, after that day.

Asahi learns to drop rocks on monsters’ heads when West isn’t there to throw lightning. He learns how to focus on propelling earth and balancing at the same time, so that he can get himself up high the way he used to help West.

He hears West’s thunderclaps on the other side of the forest, and he knows West is okay, too.

Still, he feels the quiet need to get up and defend less and less after that first week, and he hears West’s lightning less and less. It’s not fair to leave Taiyo and Yoru by themselves, he knows, but what’s the _point?_

He’s a terrible ace, and he’s sure that if he keeps fighting, he’ll screw that up too. It’s safer for him to stay put, really; he doesn’t even know why he still has his magic.

Yes, he does; he doesn’t want to forget West.

He’s out one night when he realizes it’s been months since he’s seen a single scorched tree-trunk, or the frantic marks of someone’s shoes around a burned grass patch, or even the starburst-shaped soot marks he and West used to find.

Taiyo’s gone, and the voice won’t answer Asahi when he asks why.

It’s his fault, Asahi is sure; he and West haven’t been pulling their weight, and they’ve been putting too much of the work onto Taiyo and Yoru, and Taiyo couldn’t handle it. He wonders if Yoru’s still fighting, or if there’s some other alternate duo now working to keep the town safe.

Asahi stops going out at all, after that, and there’s a piece in the newspaper a few days later about the thunder on clear nights that’s been talked about since West started working and that West loves to laugh about (“They think it’s _aliens,_ Asahi-san!”) stopping. Nishinoya’s suspension will be over soon, but Asahi still not sure if he wants to return to the team. The first-years have joined by now; Daichi and Sugawara are captain and vice-captain. They can get along without him.

_They don’t even have a coach,_ a voice whispers, and he doesn’t think it’s the one that helped him save Nishinoya in middle school. _They need their ace._

_Shut up,_ Asahi tells it.

 

“Who the hell are you?”

West stares at the black-uniformed boy who’s wearing _pumpkin pants_ of all things, waiting for an answer. “It’s _my_ night to patrol.”

“Go home,” the other boy snaps. “I can handle this. Duck.” He fires a bolt of shadow over West’s head, hitting a monster and knocking it out.

“You’re Yoru,” West says, folding his arms. “Where’s Taiyo?”

The boy’s face spasms in a wince, but he clips out “Not here”.

“He’s dead, isn’t he,” West says. “I haven’t seen any evidence that he’s been here in _ages._ ”

Yoru stares at him. “…No, he’s not dead,” he says; West fires off a lightning barrage to take care of the monsters around them, and Yoru waits for the echoing thunderclaps to die down.

“He’s not dead,” Yoru repeats, quietly. “He’s fine.”

“Well, why isn’t he out here, then, helping you?” West asks.

The boy glares at him. “I could ask you the same question. Are you West or East?”

“West. _Where’s Taiyo,_ ” West repeats, scowling, and the boy’s face crumples.

“He’s gone,” he says. “He forgot about me.”

Oh. _Oh._ “He’s at my high school, now,” Yoru says, mouth twisting in what West thinks is a smile. “We have to _play_ together, on the court, like nothing’s wrong. Like Taiyo never existed.”

“I got suspended for fighting,” West offers. “With my team’s ace. He was ready to give up, just because we had one bad match.” It still irritates him, even a week later. “ _One bad match!_ And yeah, it sucked, but he acts like it’s all _his_ fault we lost. He’s being such a wimp!” He clenches his fist, feeling his nails bite into his palm. “ _Ugh.”_

Yoru shakes his head. “This sucks.”

West nods in agreement and thumps Yoru on the back. “Go home, Yoru, I can handle this.” Yoru looks about to protest, but then he dips his head.

“Thank you,” and he’s gone. West closes his eyes, takes a breath, and takes half a second to calm down.

_Why did you tell us both to come out tonight?_ he asks the voice.

**_You needed to talk._ **

_Why?_

The voice doesn’t answer, so West growls in annoyance and goes back to shooting lightning.

 

“Hey, hey, did you hear what happened in the volleyball club?”

“I don’t believe you believe that,” and Asahi’s ears prick up. _What did they do now?_ The school hadn’t quieted about his and Nishinoya’s fight for days after it happened, but the volleyball club, half-full mess that it is, doesn’t usually attract attention.

“Why wouldn’t I? It sounds so _cool!_ ”

“It sounds silly,” the second voice says, turning a page. “I bet they made it up to attract more members.”

“Sorry,” Asahi says, turning around and trying to ignore the look both girls are giving him. “What happened?”

“Aren’t you in the volleyball club?” the one reading the book asks, turning another page.

“Ah, I guess I wasn’t in practice that day…” Technically, yes, he is still in the volleyball club, mostly because he’s too much of a coward to hand his withdrawal to Daichi, who he _knows_ won’t just let him quit.

The girl who isn’t reading a book laughs. “They’re saying during a practice match, one of their new first-years caught on fire! Just _fwoom_ , when they were trying a new play or something.”

“What?” Asahi’s so glad he wasn’t there; can that even _happen?_ That sounds utterly terrifying, and it must show on his face, because the girl who isn’t reading a book shakes her head.

“No, he was fine! He changed outfits, or something. Everyone’s saying it’s some kind of illusion to attract more members, I wish I’d seen it!” She looks genuinely excited, and Asahi thanks her and turns back around.

He’s never seen anyone catch on fire spontaneously and change outfits, but he _has_ seen his own transformation (sand-based; there’s _always_ sand in his hair at the end of it).

_Taiyo._ That would imply fire-based powers, right?

But Taiyo’s gone, he reminds himself, though actually, all he knows for sure is that Taiyo isn’t actively working anymore. He could easily have just had some kind of nonlethal injury and stopped going out for a while, right?

_Not your business,_ Asahi tells himself, turning back to his lunch.

 

He asks Sugawara about it, though, if only to distract Suga (who has apparently decided it’s _his_ fault Asahi can’t get past a block to save his life). “Did one of our first-years really catch on fire?”

Sugawara stops. “That’s gotten around?”

Asahi shrugs, and then “ _Wait,_ Suga, that actually _happened?_ ” he asks, staring open-mouthed at his friend, and Suga laughs.

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you if you come back…” he adds, and Asahi shakes his head.

“Asahi, the guidance counselor’s ready for you!” someone calls, and Asahi stands up.

“Sorry, Suga,” he says, ignoring Suga’s well-practiced pout because he _knows_ he’ll melt and give in if he looks at it, and walks out.

“Wait, Asahi!” Suga yells from behind him, and the two younger students who are, for some reason, in the third-year area of the school chorus “Asahi?”

“…What?” he asks, turning back around.

The first thing he notices are the identical golden pins, flashing on the first-years’ jackets, and he slips his hand into his pocket to check that his own pin is still there.

“What are you two doing here?” Suga asks them, and the shorter one with the mess of orange hair (not that Asahi can really talk) flushes and hides behind the taller one.

“Um…”

Suga laughs, and gestures to them. “Let me introduce you to our new first-year members, Hinata and Kageyama.”

“Hello!” the two of them chorus, bowing politely, and Asahi collects himself. He’s two years older than them, he can _handle_ this.

“Hey,” he says back, and then to Suga, “How many this year?”

“Four,” Sugawara replies. The orange one’s staring at him intently; the taller one (Kageyama?) is just sort of there. He’s frowning, but Asahi’s _pretty_ sure it isn’t directed at him. Did he do something wrong?

He will _not_ panic in front of first-years, he _refuses,_ so instead he just smiles and settles a hand on Hinata’s shoulder. “Do your best.”

“Eh?” Hinata looks confused. “Aren’t you going to play, too? I wanna be the ace…” Asahi notices Kageyama’s frown get ever-so-slightly more irritated at that. “…so I want to watch an ace play!”

“Asahi, the guidance counselor’s waiting!” his classmate calls again, not that Asahi’s really paying that much attention at this point.

_Tanaka and Suga and Daichi must have oversold me._ “Sorry,” Asahi says, still smiling politely, “but I’m not an ace.” He turns and leaves, since he _does_ actually need to make his appointment with the guidance counselor, even if it is going to be another hour of “Asahi-san, you need to think about your future” and “Asahi-san, how’s volleyball going?” and “Asahi-san, do you have any friends?”

He turns his pin over in his pocket; it won’t warm up, no matter how long he holds it in his hand, and he runs his thumb over the ridged surface, and remembers the flash of gold pinned to the first-years’ jackets.

Okay, he’s not _that_ dense; they’re Taiyo and Yoru. The orange one, Hinata, couldn’t have ‘fire’ written any more obviously on him without literally transforming in front of Asahi, and ‘Kageyama’ being the darker half of the duo is just as clear.

Taiyo’s alive and apparently happy.

Asahi feels his heart get very, very slightly lighter.

(The feeling lasts until the two of them are in front of him again, the next day, determined looks on their faces.)

“Why are you so interested in me?” Asahi asks. He’s _confused;_ why do two first-years care so much? “We’ve never even practiced together.”

Hinata’s _loud;_ Asahi nearly regrets asking as he yells his answer. “Because if you don’t come back, the second- and third-years will stay disheartenedOW!”

Asahi stares; Kageyama literally just shoved his hand into Hinata’s side, hard, to make him shut up. “You’re being too loud,” he says, hand still out; Hinata just clutches his side and looks like he’s dying. Asahi’s slightly worried that he’s going to fall; he looks pretty off-balance.

“You guys are interesting,” Asahi says, covering his _I-am-so-glad-Suga-doesn’t-do-that_ moment with a laugh. “But, I’m sorry…I can’t think about spiking past blocks anymore.”

The image that won’t leave him be, hands flying in a jump over the net, in Asahi’s way, comes back, and he pauses before continuing. Taiyo ( _Hinata_ ) has stopped clutching his side, he notices; he’s staring at Asahi like he’s surprised. _You didn’t think that was it, huh?_

“I can’t get the thoughts of being scared and self-destructing out of my head.” It comes out in a rush, and Asahi wonders why it’s easier to tell these strangers than Nishinoya. Maybe it’s because they _are_ strangers; he doesn’t have to worry about his standing with them, the way he does with Noya and Suga.

Hinata still has that wondering look on his face, and he looks down at his shoes. “You might think this is cocky, for a first-year shrimp,” he says, quieter than Asahi’s ever heard him (admittedly, that’s all of one conversation). His setter’s giving him a _what are you going to say_ look that he’s studiously ignoring.

“I won’t,” Asahi says. “What is it?”

“I understand how you feel.” Hinata’s looking up, now, tilting his chin to meet Asahi’s eyes, and his face isn’t quite the serious look Noya gets before games, it’s just open and honest. “I’m short, and I don’t have any skills, so I get blocked a lot.”

_I do have skills, though,_ Asahi thinks, looking down at the short first-year. _I’m the ace. I’m supposed to get through all that._

“But now,” he says, pointing up at Kageyama (who doesn’t look completely happy at Hinata in his personal space, but isn’t exactly shoving him off either), “I have this guy tossing to me again, and I can get past any blocker!”

…That was weird wording, right? “Again?”

Hinata flushes, and he’s sure he hears Kageyama mutter a quiet _dumbass_ and a less-quiet _shut up_ from Hinata back. “Anyway! The blockers just vanish, and the view from the top of the net opens up!” He’s away from Kageyama now, and spreads his arms out, apparently to illustrate his point.

_I know what that view’s like, a little,_ Asahi thinks, remembering the perfect, empty expanse on the other side of their net in the gym.

“And then, when I’m as high as I can go,” Hinata continues, “the ball hits my hand…” He jumps off the floor and does a mock spike. (Kageyama’s still just watching him talk.) “…and I feel the ball’s weight in my hand. I love that!”

Asahi remembers hours spent in the Karasuno gym, Suga patiently tossing for him, as he practiced spiking down one ball after another. _I know that feeling, too._

“I’m jealous of you, Asahi-san,” Hinata says. “I’m not tall enough or strong enough to spike through blockers on my own, but you are! Sure, they’ve blocked lots of your points, but…you’ve scored a lot of points too, haven’t you?”

_He’s right. I have scored a lot of points for the team._

“That’s why everyone calls you the ace, Asahi-san,” and now he appears to be done. Is he growling? What is Asahi supposed to be getting from that stance? His fists are balled, and he’s giving Asahi a truly intense stare (and he’s been stared at by _Nishinoya_ ).

The bell rings, and the other first-year makes a noise of surprise before walking off. “Come on, it’s time to go.”

Hinata doesn’t move, and Kageyama stops. “Hey, moron, we’ll be late for class,” he says, slapping the back of Hinata’s head, and again Asahi finds himself grateful that Sugawara does not and has never considered violence as an option for getting him to cooperate, even when he has that _please stop being so stupid_ look on his face.

Hinata walks off, grumbling and rubbing the back of his head, and Asahi thinks Kageyama’s going to follow, but he stops. “Um…”

Asahi flicks a glance his way, and sees that Kageyama’s watching him and rubbing his pin with one hand. Asahi’s been fidgeting with his own pin for pretty much the entire conversation, but those two have mostly left it alone.

“You don’t win alone,” Kageyama says, looking at his pin and then back up to Asahi. “That’s just how it is. That’s why there are six players on the court.”

His gaze flicks over to Hinata. “I didn’t realize that until recently,” he says, looking back to Asahi, “so I can’t really talk. Excuse me,” and he walks off, dropping his hand back to his side.

Taiyo left Yoru, Asahi realizes, and then Taiyo came back.

They work well together, he thinks, watching them in the gym that afternoon. In spite of Kageyama’s snapped “Shut up!” and all the hitting and attempted murder that seems to accompany the duo, Hinata practically flies up to the net, and Kageyama sets a ball neatly into his hand that he smacks down on the other side.

_I miss it,_ Asahi realizes, looking down at his hand. _I miss playing volleyball, and I miss fighting with Noya._

 

In the end, he’s dragged back into a match by what appears to be their Coach Ukai’s grandson. He’s just as scary, anyway. Nishinoya’s there too, and Sugawara, and Asahi’s heart twists when he realizes Suga genuinely _does_ blame himself for their loss. _It isn’t your fault, Suga._

Hinata spikes one down, right past the block, and Asahi watches it. The block in his throat seems to have (mostly) melted away. _Now or never._

“That’s what I want,” Asahi says quietly, and Nishinoya glances over to him. “I don’t care if I keep failing. I just want to spike.” _And I want to keep fighting with you,_ he adds, too much of a coward to say it.

“Then I’m fine,” Nishinoya says, just as quiet ( _for once in his life_ ). “Now that you’ve said that, I’m fine,” and Asahi hears the unspoken _now that you’re actually telling me the truth_ as clearly as if his partner had said it aloud.

Asahi’s first spike gets blocked, and he feels panic rising in his throat as he waits to hear it hit the ground, but the sound doesn’t come.

What does come is Nishinoya’s wild, impossible dive and his equally impossible receive, sending the ball back to Sugawara, and his shout of “ _Call for a toss again, ace!”_

_You always were hard to stop,_ Asahi thinks. _Ever since I met you tossing around lightning in the woods like a toy._

Nishinoya’s bad at block-follow, he knows; Nishinoya’s never managed to save a blocked spike before.

_I’m not alone._

_When we’re out there fighting, it’s my job to make sure West stays safe._

_But right now…right now, it’s Nishinoya’s job to keep_ me _safe._

He sees Sugawara debating where to send the ball, sees the Neighborhood Association member calling, and yells “SUGAAAAAAA!”

_I’d forgotten the most obvious truth of volleyball._

_I’m not fighting alone._

He watches the ball, catches a glimpse of Nishinoya’s stubborn pout and hears Sugawara’s call to Asahi, and hits it with all his strength, straight through the block.

_I’m the ace!_

His pin is burning a hole in his pocket by the time he lands, and transforming is usually voluntary, but it’s all Asahi can do to hold it back.

Asahi _cannot_ take transforming in front of everyone, on top of everything else; his nerves are already shot from slamming a spike past the terrifying first-year setter and the _stupidly tall_ middle blocker and actually calling for Suga to send him a toss instead of just waiting for him to decide Asahi was the best decision.

Nishinoya slips up behind him and takes Asahi’s hand. Asahi can feel the layer of dirt on it from his earlier skid to get under the ball (they do their best to clean the gym, but it sort of accumulates dirt). His hand is tiny and warm and has a _death grip on Asahi’s, ow, Nishinoya._

_I love you,_ Asahi thinks, looking down at Nishinoya, and Nishinoya grins up at him.

_I love you too._

The two of them clasp their pins and go through their transformations; Hinata has a huge grin on his face by the time Asahi’s shaking sand out of his hair (and ignoring the fact that Nishinoya’s transformation involves unnecessary amounts of _noise_ ; after all these years, he still isn’t used to thunderclaps).

Daichi throws his arms in the air in apparent disgust. “Okay, this is getting silly. How many of you are going to do this?”

…Not exactly the reaction Asahi had expected, but then he remembers the girls’ conversation about the first-year catching on fire in the gym, and Hinata and Kageyama both look embarrassed.

Nishinoya laughs. “How many have so far?”

“Just them,” Tanaka says, pointing to the blushing first-years. “Suga panicked.”

“I did _not!”_ Suga protests. “Hinata caught on fire! My reaction was perfectly appropriate!”

“He ran around the gym trying to find the fire extinguisher,” Tanaka says, smirking.

Nishinoya snorts, and Suga turns red. “There was a fire!”

“There’s only four of us,” Hinata volunteers; Suga looks happy to have a change of subject. “Me, Kageyama, and East and West. We take turns fighting.”

He’s holding Kageyama’s hand, Asahi notices.

“Of course you do,” Daichi says, sounding very tired. “Can we _please_ go back to the game?”

“Does this happen a lot?” Ukai asks Takeda, who shrugs.

“Twice, now,” he says, watching Nishinoya drop his magical-boy form and run back to the back line, calling “Nice serve!” to the (confused) Neighborhood Association member. “I’ve tried getting them to explain, but it doesn’t make much sense…”

Ukai shakes his head. “They’re an interesting team.”

“Right?” Takeda says, getting the starry-eyed look he keeps giving Ukai when he talks about his little team. “Aren’t they amazing?”

“ _Interesting,_ ” Ukai says firmly, watching them play.

**Author's Note:**

> This went through about ten thousand drafts and two rewatches of this arc in canon before it hit the point where it felt right to me. If you're reading this, I sincerely hope you enjoyed it! It was fun to write (as a side note, I firmly believe they were dating before that fight they had after Datekou).  
> (also, fanfic authors jump around the room screaming happily when they get comments! please talk to me, I love feedback)


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